Winds of Change
by Kendrene
Summary: Benezia has allied herself with Saren. How will other Matriarchs react to the news? Feedback appreciated
1. Chapter 1

_Author's notes:__ those of you who are reading Hunter and Prey will recognize Malena. I wanted to write about her reaction, when she discovered that Benezia had allied herself with Saren. _

Winds of Change

Summoned in Haste

A cold wind gusted through the night, across the snow-covered plain; the air was crisp if not so icy as one could have expected for that time of the year. Is was still cold enough for her armour's breastplate to carry the chill through the shirt she wore underneath, and her breath to mist in front of her face when the wind did not whip it away. The blackness in the sky was just beginning to fade and the stars like were slowly dimming. The pale, bluish moon hung low, and bathed the land in a silver light. That eerie glow was barely sufficient to make out the silhouettes of the Huntresses guarding the camp sprawled among a small copse of trees. She had forbidden her subordinates from building a fire, since the flames would give them away to the smugglers. Facing outnumbering forces in the night would be madness. Of course, sometimes the enemy found you without fires.

Resting a gauntleted hand on her pistol's butt, she resumed her round of the sentries, through calf-deep snow. Her gaze swept restlessly over the land as she searched the retreating shadows for possible dangers: they would have to strike soon, before winter's grip on the region tightened.

Andanox was a small, rocky outpost, located on the outer edge of the Asari Republics' controlled space. Its nearly eternal winters made it inhospitable and thus it was scarcely populated. In any case politicians considered it important, and when those above her ordered, she could do nothing but obey.

In less than a month, daily blizzards would begin to strike the planet's surface. The snow would damp the fights down, but when the planet's short spring came, those skirmishes would burst out hotter than before and probably result in open warfare. The thought made her cringe for Asari excelled in what humans called blitz-krieg, but if attacked in forces they would shatter under the pressure.

The next sentry she came to, a short, slim Maiden who had been assigned to her unit only recently, was leaning back against the trunk of a skeletal tree, her head slumped on her chest. Malena touched her shoulder, and the girl jerked upright, almost dropping the assault rifle she was gripping between her hands. The light had increased, but it was still difficult for her to make out the sentry's face behind her helmet's face-guard.

"What's your name, soldier?" she asked gruffly.

The Huntress respectfully touched her heart and bowed slightly, then stood to attention: "I am Neara Ardani, ma'am."

The Matriarch remained silent, but her eyes were so hard they could have drilled holes through stone.

"I was not sleeping, mistress," the girl protested. "Just resting a little." Neara met her gaze for a moment, then jerked hers away, but not before Malena could see her embarrassment. The Maiden was ashamed, and rightly so: even though that was her first mission she should have known better.

"One of those pirates would have wakened you by slitting your throat, soldier," Malena's mouth tightened, "besides you could have put the rest of us into danger."

The Huntress dropped her eyes, and her shoulders slumped dejectedly. Malena's voice softened. "Maybe you should step away from that tree."

Neara complied, mumbling an apology. How long would her renewed alertness last? Malena did not know, but she could not bring herself to berate her subordinate further. All the Huntresses under her command were near exhaustion. A battle was a tiring work, and dirty, but there was no point in worrying over what she could not change, such as Maidens sleeping on guard. She moved on, but before she had gone another three hundred paces she had to wake two more.

A sudden noise brought her up short: in the blink of an eye she had her pistol out of its holster and was ready to fire on the unknown intruder.

Another Asari materialized out of the decreasing darkness, and Malena loosened her hold on the weapon.

"Be more careful, will you?" she snarled irritably, "by the Goddess" I could have killed you!"

The messenger bowed. "I'm sorry madam, but Lieutenant Masani sent me. You have received a message." She murmured, giving her a data-pad.

Malena's hands shook a little as she read the message. Messengers rarely brought good news in times of war, especially in the night.

_**To Malena Therasu's attention, Theta squadron's commander, operation Andanox.**_

_May the Goddess Athame bless you and shelter you, _

_You are summoned before the Matriarchs' Council. Return to Thessia immediately._

_Do not ask why you're summoned. It is yours to answer, not to question._

_PS: I hope you are well._

_Your sister Rayna Therasu_

"Will there be a reply, mistress?" the messenger asked.

"I'll carry it myself," she replied, starting for the camp with a brisk stride that made her boots crunch softly on the snow.

As she walked, Malena raised her eyes to the sky: it was plainly grey now. Still a dark grey, but only a handful of stars was still visible.

She had the puzzling feeling that the unexpected summons she had just received would set in motion a chain of events that could possibly change her life, as though she had reached a crossroads, and whichever road she chose would affect her fate. At that thought, a chilling shiver ran down her spine.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's notes: _The Sovereign's __discovery__ was inspired by the Japanese legend of the Ketsuma no katana. When this sword was forged, a sorcerer evoked a demon and tied it to its blade. This katana grants great powers to its bearer, but it must taste blood whenever it is unsheathed, until the wielder is eventually forced to kill his relatives. The sword bends the bearer's will to its purposes. I have the strange idea that the Reapers, following the same principle, somehow feed on death and extinction._

Winds of change

Burial

Off to Eruan's left, the Prothean artefact -or at least what he thought was one- glittered faintly, bathed in red and yellow by the glow of the setting sun. The thing was only partially exhumed, but he could already see that it had a remarkable size. He stopped, squinting against the decreasing light, and peered down the hill's slope. He stood on the end of a clay precipice, above a huge excavation. Most of the hill had been dug away, and certainly more hills would vanish before that monstrosity was fully unearthed, for the hole was at least ten times as wide as it was deep.

The far side had been packed hard to a ramp, and he could easily make out the men moving up and down the crater's side, even though in the distance they appeared no bigger than ants. Some of the workers were still on the bottom, a dozen of them plus a few scattered guards, and they were rapidly turning on huge searchlights, since down there, the night was already descending. Now and then, whenever one of the guard's armours turned the light, a metallic flash would dissipate the slithering shadows like lightning, but when those glares flickered off, darkness seemed to press on them heavier than before.

He hardly spared them a second glance, for it was the artefact that really captured his attention. The thing jutted out of the clay, and speared up into the sky, as though it wanted to grab the distant stars that hovered above them. To Eruan's eyes it resembled a gigantic shellfish and the glossy black material that formed its hull attracted the light as if devouring it. An engineer had told him that it was a spaceship, but Eruan did not believe him: surely the thing was far too heavy to take off.

The sudden noise of boots grating on the clay, brought him out of his reverie.

"Hey, you brooding again? You think too much to be a Krogan, you know." A smiling man strode up to him and peered down the pit as well. Basrin wasn't exactly a friend, but they had fought together more than once, and Eruan respected him, though the human smiled way too much for his taste. He was a beardless youth, but not as innocent as his fresh face suggested. A seasoned campaigner, he was a cheerful killer who often laughed while he fought, and Eruan would never forget the first time he had met him, almost completely coated with the blood of the enemy.

"Come on," the mercenary urged, placing a hand on his arm, "let's get something to eat." Smells of cooking- oddly spiced to the Krogan's nose- were already filling the air: the workers had left the yard, and were lining up outside one of the largest buildings.

Basrin pulled him along, and they began to slowly circle around the hole.

"I've heard you've met Saren," the human said, still smiling. His eyes however held a cold, disapproving light. His distaste for Turians was clear, but understandable since he'd lost his father on Shanxi, and he did nothing to hide it.

Eruan shrugged, almost irritably. "An interesting fellow," he rumbled. He would never admit, certainly not to Basrin, that the Spectre had caused his scales to stand on end.

He'd met Saren only briefly as he escorted him and his Asari host on a tour of inspection. Eruan had always wondered how the Spectre could afford to pay all the workers and he suspected that the Asari Matriarch was the source behind those credits. Saren had been cold, almost rude, at least with him and the other watchmen, but since he had such a powerful ally he could afford to be.

"I wonder if he's informed the Council of his whereabouts," he mused as his reddish eyes were again drawn to the pit.

Basrin huffed loudly. "I don't care, as long as they pay me, and you shouldn't either. Ask the wrong question, and you'll get yourself into trouble. Haven't you heard about that Salarian scientist?" Eruan shot him a confused glance and he went on, "yes, that Odir- something. He was found yesterday morning, with his skull split. A messy affair, really. They said it was an accident, but I know better," he pointed an accusing finger at the Krogan, "he'd poked his nose where it did not belong, like you're doing."

Eruan wasn't really listening. "I heard that Saren calls it the Sovereign." he mumbled, gesturing towards the artefact.

"A useless piece of crap if you ask me, whatever the name. Hey, are you listening to me?"

Eruan's eyes were veiled and he stared into space, as if suddenly oblivious to his surroundings. Unknown voices were filling his ears with a beckoning chant: it was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard, and Basrin's babbling was a distracting annoyance.

_Silence him, then, _the enticing murmurs suggested_. _They sang about the joy of obeisance and filled his mind with images of a white, quiet place where he would finally find peace. He slowly turned towards the human, his face contorted into a fierce snarl.

A part of him watched in horror as his hands clutched Basrin's throat, ripping through his flesh with terrifying ease. Hot droplets of blood rained on his face, and their coppery stench filled his nostrils.

Suddenly drained, he loosened his grip, pushing the human away: Basrin's body teetered on the pit's edge and his limbs shook convulsively. Then, with one last twitch he fell noiselessly down the hill's slopes. Nobody heard. Nobody saw.

As if from a great distance, the wind howled at Eruan's ears, its hidden voices filled with an unquenchable thirst for all living things.

"Yeeess," those cruel voices were whispering, "give me more."


End file.
